Born For Broadway
by Madame Beret
Summary: In which Klaine was never canon. Because Kurt never moved to Dalton and never met Blaine. Instead they meet for the first time on Broadway. Both have parts in Wicked. AU, Klaine
1. Prologue

Born for Broadway

_**In which Klaine was never canon. Because Kurt never moved to Dalton and never met Blaine.**_

**AN: Lots of this story has massive links to the Broadway musical _Wicked_. But I don't think it will matter too much if you don't know it (but you really should see it; it's incredible) but feel free to ask if something doesn't make sense.**

**Disclaimer: Neither Glee or Klaine belong to me. They belong to Fox (I think) and a few wonderful creators. Wicked also doesn't belong to me, but I don't actually know who it does belong to. All that I have is a few t-shirts, a GleeLive programme and the binocular things I 'borrowed' from Wicked.**

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

"Hey white boy!"

Mercedes called as she pushed open the glass door of the tiny coffee shop she had arranged to meet her best friend in. In New York. New York! She still couldn't believe that her best friend, the beautiful boy from little old Lima had made good on his dream and was now in rehearsals for broadway. Wicked, no less. And that's what she was there to talk about. She had driven all the way up from California to catch up with Kurt and get all the details on rehearsals.

"Hey Cedes. I've got your coffee and I've got a secret."

Mercedes practically threw herself at the small table in the corner. Whenever Kurt had a secret, it was always a good one.

She cradled her hands around the warm coffee cup. It was cold outside and she was only just getting the feeling back in the tips of her fingers.

"Spill. And don't leave anything out."

Kurt had, as he had always told everyone he would, moved to New York to attend college. And he had never left. His combined major was in fashion (obviously) and musical theatre (because however unlikely that dream had been, it was still his dream).

A year after graduating he had auditioned, on the off chance, for a new production of Wicked (Still his all time favourite musical) and the part of Fiyero. It hadn't really come as much of a surprise when he didn't get the part. His voice wasn't right and he didn't really look 'manly' enough. But what _had _surprised him was the letter he'd received a few weeks later from the show's producer and director. It had said something along the lines of,

_Although we did not feel you were right for the part of Fiyero, we do feel your voice is too incredible and unique not to have featured in our production. We would love to offer you the part of Boq. Again, your voice isn't quite suited to the current score. But he only really has the one big song and we would like to rearrange it for your voice and indeed re-write much of the part so it feels more 'you'. Please, say you'll at least consider it._

And he had considered it. For all of five seconds before he was on the phone telling them 'of course he'd accept the part.'

Because although it may not have been a male lead, it was still a real part in a real broadway production.

That had been four weeks ago and rehearsals had begun three weeks ago. True to their word, the producer and director (obviously with help from the writer) had re-arranged his parts in _Dancing Through Life, The Wicked Witch of the East _and _March of the Witch Hunters _and re-written the character to make him… camper. But in a totally tasteful way that still fit perfectly with the story.

And it was three weeks ago that he had first met the rest of the cast. It was three weeks ago that he had first met the young man who _would _be playing Fiyero. It was three weeks ago that he had first met Blaine Anderson.

And it had been lust at first site. And that was the secret he was now sharing with Mercedes.

"Oh Mercedes, he's just so handsome. He has this jet black hair that he gels back, but you can just tell that it's curly. By the end of the day the gel starts to come unstuck and a few stray curls will fall around his neck. And they look so _soft_. And his eyes are like pools of melted chocolate. It's enough to get me to eat chocolate again. And you _know _how strictly I keep to my diet. But it's his voice that get's me every time; it's just so soft and silky. It seems to float above all the other voices, even when he's singing in a big chorus number. And when he sings he makes this cute little faces. I can't even describe those. You'll have to wait until opening night to see those. I literally cannot think straight when he's doing _Dancing Through Life. _It's still in the really rough stages but he picks up the choreography to quickly and flawlessly."

"Kurt, this sounds like more than just lust. You know what Rachel would say."

Kurt huffs slightly at that. He may love Rachel (most of the time) but he never likes hearing what she has to say. Normally because she's right and he hates it when she's right.

"No, don't roll your eyes Hummel. She'd say that you're infatuated with this Blaine guy. And you know what I say? I say go for it."

"Because that's _such _a good idea. Not. He's not even gay."

"He's doing broadway, he probably is."

Kurt was shocked. Actually shocked that Mercedes was willing to fit people into stereotypes. Until she laughed and he knows that she was just joking.

"Ok, sorry; that might have been uncalled for. But he might be. Ask him. Where's the harm?"

"Where's the harm?" Kurt's voice rose a few octaves. Why did his friends never understand? "The 'harm' is that I have to work with Blaine for at least the next few months. I really don't want to make things awkward by asking if he's gay."

"Does he dress well?"

"Wha-" he spluttered into his coffee, "what's that got to do with it."

She shrugged,

"Does he dress well?"

"Yes, he does. Not as fabulously as myself, of course, but he seems to know what's on trend. He's got this smart-casual look. But you can tell all his clothes are designer, I even recognise some of the things he wears. And you can tell he read last months Vogue because when he came into the studio yesterday he had his scarf tied in the knot that they had an article on."

Mercedes raised her eyebrows at this,

"And you think he's not gay? Kurt, I think you're gaydar is seriously broken."

"No Mercedes," he put his coffee cup down as if to emphasise the importance of what he was about to say," just because a man dresses well does not mean he's gay. And the opposite applies. Remember Karofsky? He didn't dress well. And male models – _straight _male models – know all about fashion and looking good."

"But he's not a male model, is he?"

_What the hell is this girl on? _Kurt moaned and let his head drop onto the table. He quickly retracted it because the surface was slightly sticky.

"Ok, serious question. Have you even spoken to this guy?"

"Yes," he replied indignantly, "I have. We've actually spoken quite a bit. In fact, I think I've spoken to him the most out of all the cast members. Except for maybe the ones I have scenes with. Big scenes. Where I have dialogue."

"So, do you have lots of scenes with him?"

"No. Honestly Cedes, how can you not know Wicked inside out."

She put her hands up in the globally recognised 'sorry' motion.

"No, we don't have many scenes together. But there are lots of scenes where both of us aren't on stage. So we both have pretty similar free time. We've had coffee together a few times and we always sit together to eat in lunch in the studio's dingy café."

"You know what? Things between you sound pretty good. So maybe you're right not to rock the boat. But I do think you should subtly find out if he's gay. At least then you know. Ask about girlfriends and see what he says."

"Fine, if it comes up I'll ask."

"Good. Now tell me all about the plot of this musical again."

Kurt let out a long suffering sigh before launching into a full and very detailed plot summary.

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><p><strong>Ok, thoughts? PLEASE point out any spellinggrammar mistakes so I can avoid them next time. (Especially if I switch tenses, because that's a really bad habit of mine)**

**This has been in my head for a few days and, since school's over, I thought I could give this idea a bit of my time. It is, obviously, AU because I don't think I'll ever really write something that isn't.**

**I'm open to any ideas/ suggestions. I know where this is going for a least the next few chapters. But I'm fickle, so that might change. And I don't know how long this will be. Maybe around ten chapters. At least. I think**

**Reviews are love. ****hint hint*******

**x**

**Hannah**


	2. Just Two Friends

_Just Two Friends_

**I've spent about two weeks - wait, maybe three - trying to get this up here. FF let me load the document but not add another chapter. I tried 3 computers, two browsers and three internet connections. Has anyone else had this problem?**

**I've spent the last few days practically coughing up a lung and being unable to breathe properly, so this took a back seat. Plan is to update every Sunday so, permitting, the next chapter WILL be up next week! Or maybe before because I feel guilty that this took so long  
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**Disclaimer: Really? Do you think it's mine? If you recognise it, it's not. Although I do now own a very shmexy poster of Darren Criss from his UK gig that I went to on Wednesday. I let him blow my mind. A-mazing**

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><p>The next morning found Kurt in a large dance studio above the streets of New York. He unwound his blue <strong>Hermes<strong> scarf (a Christmas present from Quinn because he didn't really have the money right now to buy his own expensive scarves) and peeled off his Marc Jacobs coat (from when he could afford it). He looked down as the outfit he had spent forty minutes putting together. But, of course, it didn't _look _like it had taken him forty minutes; that was the beauty of it. He had on a pair of black leggings that disappeared under a pair of black Doc Martens, and he had on a simple loose off-white shirt that kept slipping off his left shoulder in what he hopped was a mildly attractive fashion. And then there was his hair, coifed to perfection. Yes, he was ready for a day of intense singing and dancing. There was just enough hairspray in his hair that his style should stay in place and he was confident that his outfit made him _look _like a professional dancer in a broadway musical. Broadway. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that it was all real.

He looked around the room to see who else had already arrived. It was mostly chorus members that he still didn't really know, Ellie – the surprisingly quiet young woman playing Elphaba – Jess who played Nessa and Blaine. Ah Blaine, always first to arrive and last to leave. No-one seemed to work as hard as he did.

Blaine walked over to him,

"Hey, good weekend?"

Kurt pointedly ignored the butterflies in his stomach that arose from Blaine's proximity. It was insane.

"Yeah," he fought to keep his voice even and luckily it seemed to be working, "I did some window shopping and then I spent Sunday with Mercedes. How about you?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. Kurt had never seen him do that before and he couldn't help but think _he _rolled his eyes all the time. Had Blaine picked it up from him? It made Blaine look slightly funny and Kurt bit back a smile.

"My crazy brother's staying with me for a while. He's between cases so he thought he'd 'crash' at mine for 'a few days'. All without any warning. I love him, but sometimes I hate him, you know?"

"Oh!" Kurt laughed, "I know; it sounds just like Finn."

"Your step-brother, right?"

Kurt was touched that Blaine should remember anything that unimportant about him. Blaine was officially the cutest hobbit he'd ever seen.

"Hobbit?"

Oh, apparently he'd said that last bit out loud. He glanced at Blaine and couldn't decide if he looked hurt or amused. Probably both.

"But a cute hobbit," he protested.

_Oh god, _he thought, _you're digging._

"5 7" is not. Hobbit. Sized!" He punctuated each word by poking Kurt's bicep, which he found to be surprisingly muscular.

_Ohmygod! Physical contact, _Kurt's mind was screaming. _Is it too much to poke him back? I want to poke him back._

"Whatever." He shoved Blaine playfully and, for one brief moment, his hands were flat against Blaine's stomach. And in that brief moment he felt the muscles in Blaine's stomach beneath his soft blue cashmere jumper. He wanted to feel more; he wanted to see if the rest of Blaine's muscles were as beautifully defined. He had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch. _Of course the rest of him's defined; I've seen how he dances._

Kurt was shaken from his thoughts by the show's director clapping her hands. Looking around he saw that everyone else had arrived, including the choreographer Mike Chang.

No-one had been surprised when he'd gone into dancing professionally. No-one had been particularly surprised when he'd become a choreographer. Some people were surprised when, despite his chemistry degree, he'd started choreographing broadway shows. But everyone had been surprised when Mike and Kurt had started work on the same production, not that either of them minded; it was nice to see a familiar face.

"I want to run _Dancing Through Life _with full singing and dancing. Blaine?"

He nodded and pulled off his jumper. Kurt couldn't help but let out a small gasp as his t-shirt rode up with the jumper to give a tantalising glimpse of those abs before Blaine tugged down the red polo shirt down.

_Focus, _Kurt reprimanded his brain, _I'm in this number._

Blaine took up his predetermined 'casual' stance and looked up to begin the song.

_The trouble with school is…_

Blaine's silky voice filled the room and Kurt's heart. From his position upstage he watched as Blaine sung, danced and flirted with Molly who was playing Galinda. The flirting caused bubbles of jealously to rise in his belly. It was stupid because Blaine was just _acting _and he wasn't even Kurt's boyfriend so he had no right to be jealous. He still didn't even know if Blaine was gay! He'd never really had a 'gaydar'; he'd never known enough gay people to develop one and he certainly hadn't figured Karofsky out until the 'incident' in the locker room.

He almost missed his cue. Almost. He was too good to actually miss it; his cues were all too deeply rooted in his subconscious.

"_Miss Galinda,_" he took a step towards Molly as she turned towards him, "_I hope you'll save at least one dance for me? I'll be right there, waiting. All night._" His voice shook nervously just as the director had told him.

He went through his next few lines on autopilot before stepping into the section of the studio marked out as 'offstage'. From there he was able to watch Blaine again. He was good. Not better than Kurt – no-one was _better_ than Kurt – but he was good. Very good. Maybe even just as good. In a different way. His dancing was slicker, maybe his acting too. But his voice was just too different to compare Kurt decided. He realised then that he could quite easily watch Blaine perform forever.

He thought back to his conversation with Mercedes. It was true what he'd told her: that he and Blaine had very few scenes together and even fewer where their characters actually interacted. This meant Kurt couldn't offer to run lines as an excuse to spend more time with Blaine. Because, even if he was straight, they still had a lot in common and Kurt wanted to be his friend. Right now they were more like colleagues or acquaintances. But they certainly got along very well.

In his thinking time the song had moved onto his next cue. He had some more musical dialogue with Nessa and then some awkward dancing with a wheelchair. Except it wasn't that awkward – which never failed the impress their director, Ruth Mayne – because in his Glee Club years there had been Artie and so Kurt knew how to accommodate a wheelchair. Actually, Jess (playing Nessa) was a bit crap in her chair and Kurt had to completely lead her.

The number finished after his flawless (if he did say so himself) performance and he looked around. A few people were panting slightly, not him and not Blaine. Because Blaine was in perfect shape. Even Mike looked impressed.

The morning continued in the same way with the director drilling the cast on all of their musical numbers again and again. And then again. After four hours they were finally granted a 45 minute lunch break. If Kurt didn't love his job so much he might be inclined to think that this was slave labour.

"So, Blaine," Kurt all but skipped over to him, "do you want to grab lunch together?"

"Of course. Same place as always?"

"That heavenly sandwich bar?"

"The very same, let me just grab my jacket."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand to pull him down the stairs and into the cold New York streets. Ahh, New York; it never failed to mesmerise Kurt. He felt a shiver run up his arm as the contact that was nothing to do with the cold.

All too soon Blaine dropped his hand in favour of wrapping his scarf tighter.

"Nice scarf." Kurt mentally faceplamed at how stupid that had sounded, but Blaine didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah? Late Christmas present from a certain idiot brother by way of an apology for just turning up on my doorstep."

"Well, it really is a nice scarf." _What? Fuck the scarf!_

Blaine shrugged,

"He probably had my mum pick it out. It's alright I guess."

"_Alright?_" Kurt could not let the dismissal of such an accessory slide. "Blaine," he spoke slowly as if explaining something to a small child, "this is an Armani scarf. I _know _how much this cost. I think you own your brother a massive thank-you."

He was actually raising his eyebrows as if daring Blaine to contradict him.

Except… he was rubbing the back of his neck and opening his mouth to say something.

"Yeah, I know; he left the price tag on. And I saw it in Vogue last month. But, Kurt, money's not really an issue for my brother… or, for any of my family."

"Oh." Because that was a lot to take in and Kurt hadn't been expecting any of it. Blaine read Vogue? Interesting. But he also hadn't expected that Blaine, who'd borrowed quarters for his laundry, would be super rich. He just… didn't seem like a trust fund baby. Kurt couldn't really explain it.

"Besides," Blaine tried to move on from what was clearly an awkward topic for him, "I like my old school scarf."

"The grey and red one?" _Yes Kurt, make it obvious that you pay the guy more attention than's normal._

But Blaine smiled slightly,

"Yeah."

"We're here."

Blaine looked up and opened the door for Kurt. They spent lunch and the walk back to the studio in a comfortable conversation on their favourite music. Kurt found out that Blaine too had been a member of his school Glee Club. Although it sounded rather different to Kurt's own experiences.

That was the last thing they talked about before they were thrown back into rehearsals. They were so full on that the two of them didn't speak again until three hours later when Blaine came up to Kurt as he was getting a drink of water.

"Hey, Kurt, I was wondering if you would do me a favour?"

He sort of cocked his head in an adorable pleading manner. Kurt couldn't really deny Blaine anything.

"Of course."

Blaine raised one of his perfectly triangular eyebrows,

"You don't even know what it is yet."

_Panic._

"I would do anything for you Mr Blaine."

Kurt really hoped Blaine picked up that that was a reference to one of his lines from _Dancing Through Life _otherwise he would look like an idiot. So it was to his great relief that Blaine smiled and seemed to even muffle a small laugh.

"Awesome. I just want to run a song with you. Ruth says I make these weird faces when I sing and I have to 'fix that immediately.' You don't even have to sing; you can just speak the lines and maybe go through the motions. If you know them, I mean."

Kurt knew the 'motions' to _all _of Blaine's songs.

"We'd have to stay late though," he continued, "when the studio is empty."

Alone time with Blaine? Now Kurt _definitely _couldn't say no.

"Sure," he squeaked. Why did he squeak? That wasn't sexy at all.

But once again Blaine didn't notice, or was just too much of a gentleman to acknowledge it. Yeah, that was much more likely.

"Awesome. Is tonight ok? I'll treat you to a drink afterwards."

_This just keeps getting better._

"What," he coughed to level his voice out, "what song?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. _As Long as You're Mine_."

Oh. Because that was the big romantic duet.

Maybe Kurt couldn't do this.

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><p><strong>Or maybe he can ;)<strong>

**You'll have to wait and see.**

**So, reviews are love. Thank you so much for all of them so far, and for all the alerts... Who didn't review but… whatever. I can't get mad because I've been known to do it :S**

**xxx**

**Hannah**


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